


In Cold Blood

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(AU) Pavel's never had a problem with Leonard. And he feels terrible for anyone who does. He's the one who helps make them disappear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Cold Blood

It was ridiculously easy for the two of them.

Leonard was the one who found the prey, followed them, figured out where they’d worked, where they went, when they’d be here. Pavel played the interception, the cute little foreigner kid who didn’t know where he was, or needed help with his bike, or had a sick aunt, and drew them into alleys, where Leonard would come in again, cutting up the prey, making sure they didn’t scream. They were ridiculously meticulous. Leather gloves, sharp knives, and they never left a hair out of place for the oncoming crime scene. Not to say the hair didn’t get in the way on occasion. Nothing was a boundary for them. 

Pavel kept watch most days, unless Leonard needed him to quiet a victim. He’d make sure nobody was around (not that anybody sensible would be at the hours they did their work in), and then he’d turn and watch the man. He’d watch him suit actions to his words, whispered words in his victim’s ear, whose eyes were always wide and filled to the brim with terror. Their tongues were always cut out. Couldn’t risk them having something to say. So he’d watch the man sink silver blades into pale skin, right down to the bone, his hands covered with blood as he worked, occasionally glancing up to see if his Russian was watching. And he was his, Leonard would make absolute certain of that. And Pavel knew it. He remembers the time a waiter got a little too close for comfort. He was found dead in the morning, and Pavel had sore legs and what felt like a hangover. 

If Pavel didn’t want Leonard, he was all-too aware he could make the teen his property. But he didn’t have to. Their relationship, as twisted and mangled and hot as it was, worked. They didn’t need to fight or argue. The only time they had was when Pavel wasn’t keeping watch properly when an oblivious police officer drove by. It was a loud and angry fight, but in the end they both won.   
\--  
Pavel rushes back into the apartment they share behind Leonard, whose hands are still bloody to the elbows. 

“Nobody saw us, right?” The once-doctor asked, turning on the faucet and washing off his arms. 

“Of course not. Zey never do.” He reminded, leaning against the wall as the man glanced up.

“Can’t ever be too careful.” He said. His hands are dry in an instant, and they’re on Pavel the next. Pavel can’t help but admire the man’s courage, how easy it is for him to do this every night, coming back unscathed. Never been caught. Didn’t have a police record. 

But then they’re kissing violently, all teeth and tongue, no sympathy, and Pavel remembers he doesn’t care.   
\--  
When Pavel wakes up, he isn’t sure how they’d made it to the bed, considering they spent the night on nearly every flat surface besides it, and he’s sore. He always is, though, and he knows the pain is worth it. 

Leonard’s arms are wrapped around him in sleep, and Pavel isn’t stupid enough to make a move to move them, so he only nuzzles his neck and closes his eyes again, pulling the white comforter over them. Pavel’d always thought it was a little too pure for their lifestyle, but he couldn’t argue that it was comfortable and Leonard liked it, so it stayed.

Things Leonard dislikes seem to oddly disappear sometimes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Should I continue this, or leave it as is? Feedback is, obviously, welcome!


End file.
